Eda could barely breathe. Below her, the portcullis was going up. Below her, Roul was preparing to pass through it.
Drawing an urgent breath, she ran to the other side of the wall walk and peered over. She panicked when he did not appear straight away, worried that losing sight of him meant the illusion was over. But then he rode into sight, stopping to speak with Harlan and the guard at the gate. Her gaze went to the donkey, which was smaller than Basil. Its coat was browner and the ears shorter.
Roul lowered his hood, drawing her attention back to him. Even from that angle she could see he was different. His hair was longer, reaching all the way to his eyes. There was no need to clip it short anymore. It would be pure silk in her hands.
When they finished speaking, she panicked, thinking he might turn around and exit. But he did not leave. Harlan called to another defender on horseback, gave instructions she could not make out, and then Roul followed the man.
Why had he returned?
She watched him ride off through the nobility borough, drinking in the sight of his familiar frame and broad back. He was almost to the bend in the road when he slowed his horse suddenly. It was like he felt the weight of her stare, because he turned his head and looked up—straight at her.
Her lungs stopped, and the powdered remains of her heart stirred as though caught by a sudden gust of wind. He was unshaven and heavy-eyed and beautiful and visibly surprised at seeing her atop the wall.
The defenders said something to him, and he faced forwards again. A moment later they rounded the corner, and he was gone from sight.
* * *
Eda was on the wall. Eda was on the wall inuniform. What on earth was going on? He expected to find her married to the bootmaker, playing house in the merchant borough. He had tortured himself with that thought for months. But in true Eda style, she had gone rogue. Now he was moving in the opposite direction—away from her—and the pull to turn back was as strong as ever.
He had hoped those feelings might have eased after so long apart, but their edges were as sharp as ever. First he was going to warn King Becket. Then he was going to return to the wall and remove her before the English troops arrived.
Along the quiet roads of the nobility borough they went, then through the busy streets of the merchant borough all the way to the royal gate. Inside, Roul looked to the training yard, searching for familiar faces. None could be found. He passed the barracks, the stables, and a few minutes later, he was dismounting in front of Eldon Castle. The groom gave Roul a confused look when he handed over both the reins to his horse and the donkey.
Roul requested an audience with Queen Fayre, knowing King Becket would cast him out. But to his surprise, he was brought before the king. Not a happy king, mind you. Becket sat upon his throne glaring at Roul.
‘You have a lot of nerve returning here,’ he said, rising and stepping forwards. ‘This feels a lot like a kind gesture thrown back in my face.’
Roul bowed. ‘Your Majesty.’
‘My men tell me you have important information. I pray for your sake they are right.’
At least he was prepared to listen. ‘There are English troops on their way to Chadora. I tracked the army through Carmarthenshire. They’re a few hours east of here. I estimate around three thousand soldiers.’
Roul could see the mental turmoil as the king weighed his words.
Becket turned to his guards. ‘Find the warden, and send some scouts east to investigate.’
‘By all means, send scouts,’ Roul said, ‘but don’t wait for them to return before preparing your army. I can’t speak of England’s intentions, but an army that size suggests this isn’t a friendly chat.’
Becket raised his chin. ‘Why are you here? You just happened to be in the south and noticed an army coming our way?’
‘I heard rumours of their movements and went to investigate. When I realised they were headed here, I came to warn you.’
‘Why?’
‘You know why. I care about these people and this kingdom very much.’
Queen Fayre swanned into the room at that moment, looking from Roul to her son. ‘Surely you have figured out by now that Commander Thornton’s loyalty lies not with one man but with the kingdom he swore an oath to protect.’ She went to stand next to her son.
‘He is not a commander, Mother, and I do not recall inviting you to this meeting.’
Fayre’s eyebrows rose. ‘I believe the commander asked to see me.’
Roul shifted his feet. ‘I’m happy to see anyone who’ll listen at this point.’
‘Why?’ Fayre asked, turning to him. ‘What have I missed?’
A horn sounded in the distance. They all stilled to listen.
